hello my fellow autistics. i’m asking you a question and giving you two options only sorry but i’m curious if this is just a me experience or just not liking my ex lmao:
i personally thought i would be all about smooching and making out but like. lips are slimy. and i never know what i’m doing sowwwy. 🫣 also my ex used to bite my lips, very hard. what the fuck was up with that
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the release of the new 1999 ag historical twins is indicative of a lot of problems with the company and its dolls and its decisions lately, but one that is personally driving me up the wall now is just. how many more dolls are we going to get of girls in middle/upper-middle class homes with a perfect family?? like im not at all saying that every story needs to be full of tragedy and drama, of course not, but it just feels like the stories have gotten cleaner and cleaner and cleaner. the issues are smaller, sometimes even glossed over. i thought wbu was going to steer the company towards telling more "mature" stories where issues are directly addressed, but it feels like we're instead getting more and more stories about girls in comfortable homes with perfect families and comparatively minor issues. that's part of why they're starting to feel so samey. where's the diversity?? where's the variety??
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Yesterday, while talking about my serving job, my office coworker said, “You ever feel like you’re in a Broadway show, like it’s just the same thing repeating night after night?” I said, “Absolutely. There’s a song in the Beetlejuice musical where he goes, ‘I do this bullshit, like, eight times a week,’ and I swear I think of it every single day on my way to work.”
A couple of weeks ago a woman at one of my tables asked if I’m “in the theater” and I said no, and she was like, “oh, you just seem like you have that personality.” I don’t need to join the local theater, ma’am, I already act for a living at this job. You’re simply seeing through the cracks in my carefully crafted but summer-worn worksona. I said to my coworker, “I was just assigned theater kid by this woman,” and they said, “She probably clocked that you’re gay but she’s too straight to realize it so she was like, ‘She must…do theater.’”
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"I'm fine", except the words sound hollow beneath the weak attempt of a smile and gaze that had lost its excitement. Knowing too much, each ripple of time laying in wait for them to reach out and grasp it, to engrave itself in their memory until the end of time (how ironic, they still had nightmares about their death—now another would join). It scares them; the knowledge, the lost branch, the day they couldn't remember their dear crewmate. It scares them, for when all was reclaimed and they left Oarlyegrande in continued search of their father, would they lose it all? Up until now they had made each decision with what they knew, and now that information looked so, so insignificant. The knowledge of the worlds they could barely handle, if they lost it after having a taste for it, would they feel empty? Ah, no wonder Orologia's simulations threatened to rip the seams, Gran could understand now, the overwhelming sensation of knowing every choice made.
"We'll be fine", there's conviction in their words, for in their hand they still grasp the note they didn't need anymore: there's another helmsman.
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